


Remote Control

by padawanhilary, Telesilla



Series: Long Long Road [8]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub, Fucking Machines, M/M, Phone Sex, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padawanhilary/pseuds/padawanhilary, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney's not with John, but John's going to get fucked anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remote Control

Pasadena, CA/Washington DC -- October 1998

Contracting with NASA has its ups and downs, as far as John's concerned.

On the one hand, it means that he and Rodney can (and often do) call themselves rocket scientists. Also, the money's good; John's trust fund is responsible for the Lear, but they wouldn't be able to afford the really nice place in Pasadena if they were professors somewhere.

On the other hand, there's a surprising amount of travel involved. Usually it's John, but this time, Rodney's off to DC for meetings and John's on his own. And sure that means he can watch football without Rodney mocking it, but really, he'd rather have Rodney here, mockery and all.

He'd also like to get off, he thinks, settling down in the kitchen with a can of coke and a thick stack of reports. Rodney's only scheduled to be gone for two weeks and John is wondering if Rodney will keep him on the edge the entire time. John wouldn't put it past him.

Rodney, however, isn't much inclined toward delayed gratification, and especially not now. The DC crowd stresses him the hell out, even if (and maybe because) they're providing the funds for so much of Rodney's work. By the end of the third day, he's reaching for his cellphone and punching John's speed dial. He's frustrated, he's punchy...he wants to be home.

John's a little surprised when the Star Wars Cantina song plays, but as he answers, he looks at the clock, and wow, it's already seven in DC. "Hey," he says. "Done for the evening?"

"Yes," Rodney says, his voice a cross between irritation and relief. "They're driving me fucking nuts, John," he bitches. "It's so much worse this time, and you know how bad I am at kissing asses. I wanted to throw my water glass today. I wanted to punch at least four people--and I'm worse at that than I am at kissing ass. Remind me again why I can't get on a plane right now?"

"Because if you do, it'll be back to ramen, mac n cheese and that tiny walk up with busted radiators." John tries to sound as sympathetic as possible. "I wish I could have gone in your place, but I'd be lousy at explaining why your deep space telemetry project needs funding. Somehow I think that saying 'give him the money because he's fucking awesome' wouldn't go over all that well."

Sighing heavily, Rodney nods to himself, head hanging. "Okay. Yeah. Okay, I need to just get it together." He sits and considers pouring himself a vodka, then decides against it. There's a pause as he considers, instead, his lap. "What're you doing tonight?"

"Calling them and having the plane gassed up if you say the word." John pauses. "I'm serious, if you need me I can be there by tomorrow afternoon."

"No," Rodney says at once. "I mean...you really can't do anything for me in the meetings, and I'm probably shitty company afterward. I'd just end up complaining. More than usual," he adds. "And the room service is terrible. See? I can't stop, and you're not even here." He plows on, though, because he really misses John and the lap idea won't go away. "What're you wearing?"

"Oh I'm wearing the latest in hot gay club wear," John says with a laugh. "Those ratty blue track pants and that 'Ferrous Wheel' shirt." He pauses for effect. "No underwear."

"Perfect." That last is enough for Rodney; no further checking necessary. "Strip."

"Okay," John says. After his shirt's off and he's tugging down his pants, he adds, "I'm in the kitchen, by the way."

"Not for long: into the spare room. Uncover the machine."

"Oh God...Rodney," John said, trying to think past the sudden surge of knee-weakening lust. There was something...oh yeah. "Do you want me to grab my headset?"

"Yeah. Fire up the laptop and put it right where you can reach it while you're on the machine." Rodney can see how this is going to pan out now, and he closes his eyes to picture how John will look, kneeling down, spread out, trying to type while he's getting fucked. It's actually a pretty good image.

"Okay," John says, his heart pounding hard. He has to stop for a moment and just breathe as he sets up his headset. The machine is familiar now-- both he and Rodney have tinkered with it a bit--so it's easy enough to set up. Setting the laptop up is a little more complicated but there's a folding table that Rodney puts it on and John's able to set that up in front of the spanking bench.

"All right," he says, flicking on his headset. "It's all set up."

"Okay. Lube yourself up. Which toy do we have hooked up to it? I can't remember." It bugs Rodney that he can't, too; it's been a while since they've used it. He puts the phone on speaker for a minute and undoes his belt and fly to shove his very nice slacks down his thighs, taking his boxers with them.

"Nothing right now," John says, resisting the urge to pick his favorite. "I was pretty thorough last time I cleaned up in here." While he's talking, he's opening up the cabinet full of sex toys and getting out the lube. "So it's up to you."

"Get the big gray one," Rodney mutters in fond exasperation. "You know you want to." He can imagine it on there, thick and long, and John will need lots of lube for it--the good kind. "And the lube from the tub," he adds, just in case John gets any ideas about using the thin lube for more drag. "You don't get to hurt yourself incidentally when I'm not there."

"Would I do that?" John says with a faint laugh. Actually, he wouldn't; while he likes pain, it's the exchange between himself and Rodney that makes it into something better, something _more._

"Okay," he says after a few moments spent fitting the dildo onto the machine. "You want me to get myself ready?"

"Yeah." Rodney thinks about that, then adds with a little sigh, "I wish I could see that--but I definitely want to hear it." To that end, he takes the phone off speaker to cut the interference a little.

"Wish you could, too." The lube feels cold against his skin, but that's not the only reason John shivers as he opens himself up. "Still...it's good doing this for you."

Rodney goes quiet for a long moment, just listening to John's breathing, the peculiar little hitching quality it takes on when he's getting himself worked up. He lets it go for a little while in quiet, knowing John will understand the silence, and then he murmurs, "You don't have to use a cock ring this time."

John almost protests--it's easier with a cock ring--but catches himself just in time. He argues with Rodney all the time, but not when it comes to sex and he has no intention of starting now. "Okay," he says. "I'm ready."

"So get to where you're in position and then let me know when you start it up." Rodney's almost holding his breath now, waiting to hear the telltale whine of the machine.

In spite of the fact that everything's set up in just the right position, getting everything going is still more complicated than John expected. It takes a few tries before he's settled on the bench with the dildo in the right place. Taking a deep breath, he hits the key that starts the machine.

"There," he says. The dildo pushes into him and he catches his breath. "Oh fuck...good thing it's on slow."

Rodney closes his eyes, picturing the fat gray dildo working its way into John, slow and relentless. "Fuck," he whispers, gripping his erection and stroking it slowly, just relishing the drag of skin on skin for a while. He has to laugh quietly. "I fucking love that machine, you know?"

"Oh yeah." John huffs out an unsteady laugh. "I know." He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to adjust to the sensation. "You like the idea that it's going into me, opening me up...big and hard and steady?"

"Yeah," Rodney admits, voice a little hoarse. "Don't speed the machine up." He likes the idea of that methodical, mechanical slowness, and he likes the way it sounds over the phone. He matches his hand to the noise.

It should be easier to take, John thinks as the machine works behind him, as that dildo slides in and out, nice and slow and steady. But it's not, and he's pretty sure Rodney knows that. John always wants more--more pain, more speed, more thrills--and right now, he wants this thing slamming into him.

"God, Rodney...it's not...fuck."

"I know," Rodney replies without hesitation. "But I know you can come like that. It'll just take a little longer." If they can't be together, then Rodney's at least going to make the absolute most of a phone call.

John clenches his fists and then does his best to relax into it. "Longer is good," he gets out. "And you like driving me crazy, don't you?"

"You know I do." Rodney lightens his strokes, just barely gliding his hand over the skin of his cock; this is going to end up being over way too soon, but he still wants the rhythm to match the machine. He grins as he gets an evil idea. "I should let you fuck me sometime," he offers, voice chipper. "With the machine doing you. I wonder if that would work."

"Oh God," John moans. Getting to fuck Rodney isn't something that happens all that often and being in the middle of a Rodney and machine sandwich would be one hell of a thing. "Think we could manage," he says and then laughs breathlessly. "You're...fuck...totally turned on by the challenge of it."

"Yeah, I am." Rodney's breathing's getting shakier now as he gets closer, even though he's trying to hold off. "And it'd be one of the hottest things ever. Put your hand around your dick, John, but don't stroke." The randomness, the quicker pace of the words, they herald Rodney's impending orgasm, but he fights it just so he can tease John a little longer.

The maneuvering required to grab his dick changes the angle of the dildo just enough and now the aim is perfect, hitting him just right. As good as it feels however, John's still not satisfied; he can tell Rodney's close and it's frustrating to not be able to do more to help him.

"I wanna be there," he gasps out. "Want to make you come...please...."

"I know." Rodney shuts his eyes tight and actually wishes he had one of those toys that mimics a blowjob. It wouldn't be quite right, but it would facilitate the fantasy at least. "Wish you could blow me." Actually, he'd rather be the one doing the fucking, but there's not much point in wishing. He just pictures John taking it, and finally his hand does speed up, working quicker than the gentle whine of the machine. He comes with a low, choked-out groan, and blissed-out and sated, it's easy to give John one more order. "Crank it."

Even though he's braced himself, John still shouts after clumsily hitting the correct keys on the laptop. Now that Rodney's come, John can be a little selfish, and he slumps down on the bench, dick in hand, and just lets the machine fuck the hell out of him. The dildo's big enough to hurt, just a little, each time it slams into him.

"Hurts," he gasps out. "God...Rodney...it's just...fuck...pounding me...so fucking good!"

"Yeah, that's it," Rodney purrs. He hasn't even given a thought to cleaning himself off; he just wants to hear the gasps and moans, the lewd noises of lube and a dildo thrusting into John barely discernible over the grinding of the fucking machine. "You're so close I can almost feel it. Squeeze your cock, John, _hard_ \--no stroking yet."

The hard pressure on his dick is another, perfect, little jolt of pain. John's shuddering now, each thrust pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Talking is close to impossible, but he wants that connection with Rodney, needs that false closeness in lieu of the real thing. And, of course, he wants Rodney to know what he's doing to John.

"Rodney," he manages to say. "It's fucking...me so hard...hurting me... _I'm_ hurting me...."

"You are." Rodney takes the time to savor that for a moment. "You're doing an excellent job." And he stops right there for a long, deliberate moment before finally telling John, "Come."

The dildo keeps shoving into John as he comes loud and _hard_. It's painful, the way it always is when he's fucked right through an orgasm, but it's also perfect, each thrust drawing out the aftershocks while John lets all his tension go and just relaxes on the bench. Headspace is different when Rodney's not there, but right now, John's keenly aware that this whole scene was orchestrated by Rodney. It's a damn good feeling.

Rodney groans as he hears John come. He knows he can't just have John trotting all over the country whenever he leaves town, but if they can connect like this, if they can share this together...well, at least it makes leaving bearable.

He takes a minute to get John to shut the machine off, and then they just rest. He can imagine John flat on that bench on his chest, still breathing hard. "Love you," he says quietly once they've had a little time to recover.

"Yeah?" John says as his own breath finally slows down. "It's just possible that I might love you too." He's sticky and worn out and a little sore, and God but it feels good. "Not to dismiss all your brilliant contributions to science and engineering," he adds, "but damn, I think this machine is your best work ever."

"I think you may be right." Rodney finally reaches for a Kleenex to mop up his mess with. "Too bad it wouldn't do to patent it under my own name. 'Rodney McKay's Fuckmeister 3000.'" He cracks up quietly. "I could have an infomercial."

John can't keep a snort of laughter from escaping. "I'd pay good money to see that on late night TV." Wincing just a little, he finally slides off the bench to sit on the floor. There's a stack of towels near at hand, but cleanup can wait. For now he's just going to sit here and just relax for a moment.

It occurs to Rodney again as he hears John moving around that they're so far apart. "How're you doing?" he asks quietly. "You should grab a blanket and get on the mat if you're not already."

"I'm good," John says, but he does lean over and grab a blanket. He's not all that cold, but Rodney's a firm believer in aftercare and John has to admit that wrapping up helps. "Miss you."

"Miss you, too." Rodney shifts a little, sighing. "Not too much longer, at least. You'd think we'd be used to this by now."

"Yeah well, I don't want to get used to you not being here," John says. Knowing it's not helping the mood much, he tries again.

"I'll tell you what, when you get back, we'll go up the coast to that B&B in Carmel, take a few days off."

"That sounds fantastic." They're usually, of course, more into the first B than the second when they go up there, but it doesn't matter. It's become their place, and right now going there is the best idea ever. "I might actually sleep tonight," he adds on a yawn.

"I hope so," John says. "Me too."

 _-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fic (for the phone sex square) featuring Dr. Sheppard and Dr. McKay from the AU ending of our Long Long Road series.


End file.
